


Wrong to Right (and Aslan Comes in Sight)

by Machine_Gun_T



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: (So), (and there is time for this scene to take place), (army prep should take longer than one night), (it takes two nights), (sort of), Angst, Book/Movie: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Handwaving Canon Timeline, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Missing Scene, Narnia, movieverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26664766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machine_Gun_T/pseuds/Machine_Gun_T
Summary: King Edmund the Just wasn’t always just. He grew into it, turning the little boy who bullied his sister into the King remembered years after his reign. And while it is difficult to say when this process started, there was one significant part near the beginning that Edmund remembered. But no one ever guessed what it was.Or, a conversation takes place and Maugrim’s attempts to make a muddle of things for Edmund somehow make them clearer than before.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie (mentioned), Edmund Pevensie & Maugrim (Narnia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Wrong to Right (and Aslan Comes in Sight)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowyassassiny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowyassassiny/gifts).



> So I never actually thought I would write a fic. I’m still not convinced I can write a fic. This is a ramble born of jet-lag induced insomnia that jumped into my head fully formed at 5am after having been trying to go back to sleep since 3:30. But I wrote it and showed it to people and they encouraged me to post (Thanks, shadowyassassiny and Gnomedrawing! Love you both!) so here. Have a fic I don’t think I can write.

Edmund didn’t always care about right and wrong. Of course, he always _thought_ he cared about right and wrong. He can remember a time as a kid when right and wrong were decided by him and his feelings, when “caring” meant caring about feeling right all the time and not allowing anyone to make him feel wrong - usually by covering up those uncomfortable feelings with anger, lying, and bullying. It is a trap of prideful, childish logic, one he often muses on when he is older, wondering how he was lucky enough to grow out of it while others stubbornly cling to their self-dictated morality. 

Because Edmund did have to grow into truly caring about right and wrong, into earning his moniker “The Just”. Most people assumed this change in his thinking happened after his coronation. To be fair, this was an important time in his growth, when he started learning what right and wrong were from an objective standpoint - or, at least, as objective as subjective people could make it. But it wasn't when he started caring about it. He also didn't start caring the morning after he was rescued from the White Witch and met Aslan for the first time. People assumed that in this conversation, Aslan showed him the error of his ways and in doing so persuaded him (even subtly) to care the way he does when he grows up. And they weren't _wrong_ , but also, it wasn't like that. Edmund had already seen the error of his ways. He had already begun to care about right and wrong. He didn't think he could have had the conversation he did without that being the case. His conversation with Aslan was an extremely important milestone in his growth, but it had merely put his then newfound caring in context and showed him a way forward. 

No, Edmund truly started caring about right and wrong in the company of the witch. Not, exactly, when he himself was being mistreated, despite him being aware it was wrong. Being thrown into a dungeon had made him feel, without being able to logic his way out of that feeling for the first time, that he was wrong, that he had made a mistake. (Not that he was willing to admit that, even to himself.) But even then, he had decided later, he had only cared because it made him feel (however accurately) wrongly treated and he didn't have the power to make the witch or her followers suffer the way he usually did when he felt this way. It was another trap of childish logic, labeling her actions as wrong simply because they affected him negatively, despite the label being accurate. It is much easier to claim you care about right and wrong when you are the one being hurt by the wrong actions of others. The true test comes when you gain the power to do something for the situation of others.

The first time Edmund cared about right and wrong on behalf of another was when he met a fox who had betrayed the witch for the sake of his siblings - the exact opposite of his own actions - and still seemed to respect him, despite it all, even bowing to him. When he saw the distinction between them as the fox refused to disclose the location of his siblings, he was ashamed. So he threw himself in front of the fox, spouting words off the top of his head in response to the witch’s question, trying to stop the witch from her cruelty.

Of course, Edmund’s best attempt was nothing but panicked honesty and the worst thing he could possibly have done. He spilled the information the fox had been ready to die to keep secret, the fox had shaken his head despairingly at Edmund (which must have meant Edmund had lost what little respect the sly creature might have had for him), and the fox was petrified at the end of it all regardless. And Edmund himself was left with a bruised cheek and a warning echoing in his ears, a warning almost drowned out by a wordless roaring in his head as his emotions clashed against each other, terror and horror battling for a place alongside a nameless (at the time - later he would label it righteous fury) emotion that cried out "That was wrong. Wrong to hurt this fox. He hadn't done anything to deserve it. You were wrong to act this way." 

(Not that he said any of this aloud. Thoughts and habits don't change easily, and besides, even if he had the words to express such a new type of thought, he knew the witch wouldn't accept such a call out of her actions.) 

The witch had already been treating Edmund as a prisoner instead of the promised prince to be shaped into a king, ignoring him for the most part and relying on the dwarf and Maugrim to keep him in line. The dwarf was annoying, whiny, and a bit of a sadist, but Edmund greatly preferred him over Maugrim. Maugrim, who came with honeyed, poisoned words, eyed him as if he were prey to play with, and terrified him into a stuttering mess.

Which meant, of course, it was Maugrim who was in charge of him that evening. As they made camp, Maugrim growled out his orders to his pack and then gave Edmund a shove with his nose, causing him to stumble forward. The first time this had happened, he had protested, saying he could simply follow Maugrim as he had done in the castle. The back of his calves still throbbed where Maugrim had snapped at them to force Edmund forward, not caring that he had been breaking skin as he had snarled at him, scorning Edmund's idiocy and warning him to do as he was bid. 

This time, Edmund stepped forward wordlessly, if a little shakily, obeying the shoves Maugrim gave him when he was supposed to turn and stopping abruptly every time Maugrim growled at him so Maugrim could listen to reports from his pack and relay new orders. Eventually, they reached a part of camp full of minotaurs and hags busy with war preparations and Maugrim told him to stop and then sat down, indicating Edmund was to do the same.

"You had more information today, Fortunate Favorite of the Queen," Maugrim told him, his red tongue lolling dangerously. "It was stupid to hold it back. What did you hope to accomplish?"

Edmund swallowed. "I didn’t know it was important," he said stubbornly.

Maugrim let out a low chuckle. “Yet the second the Queen threatens a filthy traitor, you cough it up as if to protect him? Clearly, you knew something.”

“No!” Edmund protested. “I wasn’t trying to protect--”

Maugrim snapped his teeth in Edmund’s face, filling his nostrils with the stench of rotten wolf breath and making him gag. "Don't lie to me. You couldn’t have been more obvious you wanted the Queen to spare the spy. Was it because he called you ‘your majesty’?” 

“Of course not!” Though Edmund wondered how true his defense was. “I - I thought maybe he would have more information. She didn’t need to kill him!”

“Ah, I see, is _that_ why you jumped in front of the coward, yelling “no” like a bothersome pup?”

“I didn’t! It was - It would have been helpful if he knew more, he could have -”

“Of _course_ , he would have been so helpful,” Maugrim drawled. “Even though you saw him refuse to answer such a _simple_ question. It does make me wonder just who, exactly, you were thinking you were helping.”

Edmund hesitated. “Her - her majesty, of course.”

“And _clearly_ she thought so too, given she had to remind you just whose side you’re on.”

“It wasn’t - it wasn’t like that. I - I was only- only trying - I mean, I - I thought -”

“You thought? Just what did you think, Fortunate Favorite of the Queen?”

Edmund stammered. Never before had someone so thoroughly succeeded in making him feel small and stupid. Eventually, he whispered, "It was wrong. To hurt the fox. I thought it was wrong."

Maugrim paused, then laughed. "Wrong? And what do you know about right and wrong? Isn't what the Queen did the only way to deal with those who make you feel stupid? It is what you do, after all. You've told me about how much your younger sister annoys you. You do the same sort of thing to her. How could it be wrong?"

Edmund reeled back. "That's - no - I don't - it's not the same!"

"But of course it is! Your younger sister bothers you and won’t go away. You get angry and act a certain way to get the result you want. The fox was a traitor and spy, the worst kind of annoyance. They are always searching out secrets to tell everyone else, hiding valuable information, making life difficult, and refusing to go away. It makes the Queen angry. I’m sure you understand this. Don’t your siblings ever try to spy on you? Rat you out to your parents, perhaps? Such betrayal can only be responded to with anger, and that is what you do. Only, in the midst of war, such traitors become dangerous threats, cowards who are bought at a price and know nothing of loyalty. So you see, of course it wasn’t wrong that the fox had to die. Otherwise, it would have run straight to the enemy. Truly, death is the only thing such a despicable creature deserves." Maugrim was almost crooning now, his hoarse voice weaving what felt like a slowly-tightening net around Edmund’s thoughts. 

“But…” Edmund didn’t really have anything to say to refute Maugrim’s logic. “I just thought…”

“What, that you might be the judge of right and wrong? Truly, you were trying to protect him. I didn’t realize you could be so stupid” The wolf laughed cruelly. “You know, perhaps you simply recognized the look in his eyes. You have betrayed more people than that pitiful creature today, you know? Perhaps you felt that if you saved another disgusting traitor, you would be similarly saved.”

Edmund sat silently at this, causing the wolf to laugh again. “As fascinating as this conversation has been, it isn’t why I stuck around. Today showed that you can’t be trusted to share important information in a timely manner. Now, I have noticed a tendency of yours to spill more information when someone is being threatened. I do have several more spies and traitors I am trying to track down, and I would gladly bring them here to maul if it would get you to talk, but traveling back and forth would cost me time, time better spent elsewhere. And I don’t really want to listen to your bothersome yips for pity. 

“So tell me, traitor, do you have any more information that might be useful?” 

Mutely, Edmund shook his head. He was miserable and scared and wished for nothing more than this conversation to be over.

"Now was that so hard, telling me the truth?" Maugrim heaved himself to his feet, leaning over Edmund and smiling a wolf's grin at him when the boy couldn’t quell his tremble. "Much easier than the alternative." His smile vanished, voice dropping into a growl. "Don't try to lie to me again, and don't try to think yourself better than you are, to think you could tell anyone right from wrong. This is your place tonight. Don't move again, Fortunate Favorite of the Queen." 

Maugrim stalked off, leaving Edmund shaking and feeling simultaneously hot and cold. Edmund obeyed the wolf's order for the next several hours, huddling into a ball under the tree at which he had been sat down. Around him, the camp swelled with activity, filling his head with shouts and clangings, making him flinch. After several hours of this, the activity died down and the camp began to quiet. As the world around him settled into slumber, he turned Maugrim’s words over and over in his head, trying to logic his way out of the mess he had found himself in. He had no rebuttal for Maugrim's arguments, but despite his lack of reasoning, he was still convinced what had been done to that fox was wrong. And maybe, by Maugrim's logic, that meant his actions were wrong, too. Very, very wrong. And for the first time, that mattered to him. For the first time, he considered that maybe being a Fortunate Favorite of the Queen wasn't a good thing - he suddenly recalled the words Maugrim had spoken to him when they first met, forgotten in his high expectations of seeing the witch again: “Or else, not so fortunate.” Edmund was just as suddenly certain he was much closer to ‘not so fortunate’ than ‘fortunate’, despite what Maugrim called him every time they spoke. His illusions of becoming a prince and then a king under the witch’s tutelage (because even as he was being mistreated and ignored, he had still retained some hope he would one day be important enough to gain the Queen’s approval again) were quickly falling apart as he allowed himself to consider that he was, in fact, on the wrong side. 

That night - or rather, very early the next morning, Edmund decided he had to leave. He no longer wanted any part of the witch and her ways. The only thing he wanted now, he admitted to himself, was to see his family again. Even if they yelled at him again. Even if he was a traitor to them. (He didn’t think his siblings would kill him. Not like the witch would. Right?) Standing cautiously and stretching out his joints from where they had stiffened in his ball on the uncomfortable ground, Edmund crept through the camp, trying not to wake anyone.

He was caught not even 5 minutes outside of the camp, Maugrim's jaws around his throat, snarled threats pouring into his ears.

The next night they tied him to a tree.

**Author's Note:**

> I do love Edmund. He’s one of my all-time favorite characters. He has such an amazing character arc. And I really care about justice, which makes him all the better. 
> 
> Begrudgingly, I am impressed with the scene my brain chose to spit out. It actually picked the right character to have this conversation with Edmund (I remember debating with myself whether it would be the dwarf or the wolf). Maugrim in the movie is clearly shown to be manipulative and cruel. He is in charge of the witch’s police, as shown by Tumnus’ High Treason note. He taunts Peter twice, trying to make him doubt himself. He is the one who interrogates the Fox, though I think he is a little too proud of his manipulation/interrogation skills to realize that sometimes they fail him. He is willing to accept an answer that may or may not be correct if the person he's interrogating looks defeated enough (based on the scene with the fox outside the Beaverdam). It worked in the fox's favor, and I don't think Maugrim is the type to learn from his mistakes, so it will work in Edmund's favor here.
> 
> Something that I learned after I wrote the fic also surprised me at how plausible the fic was. Apparently, this scene in the book (which was very different from the one in the movie) was, in C.S. Lewis’ words, the first time that Edmund was moved to pity someone who wasn’t himself. So maybe I did guess correctly when Edmund started caring about right and wrong.


End file.
